Then there was her confusion of all she had heard tonight. Was she making up stories, as she always had, or had she stumbled upon something that might be as treacherous as she presumed? Victoria had no idea, but she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she found out.
16
Callum eyed his bed but found that he had no wish to sleep. He was too agitated, his mind racing with all that he should be doing, could be doing. So instead he paced as he worried over the ongoing disappearance of his cousin, of whom not a trace could be found. Callum trusted Angus, but should he or any of his men not have found something by now? People remembered Gregor, sure, but they all thought he had moved on, continued elsewhere with Hudson’s Bay in the nomadic nature of many of those who worked for the Company. Angus had been the only one to continue to pursue his disappearance.
Then there was Callum’s own fickle nature. He should have been completely focused on the task at hand, but instead his mind couldn’t rid itself of another — Victoria. Every time she was near, Callum acted out in a nature so unlike his usual easygoing manner. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew exactly what it was — jealousy. His mother wouldn’t be proud of how rude he had been to Victoria, but his frustration at wanting her close and yet needing her far was overwhelming him. She woke something up in him that he couldn’t shake, and the closer he got to her, the harder it was going to be to leave.
What made it worse was that no matter how much she called to him in ways far beyond friendship, she was truly the only one in this town he knew he could trust.
He never should have gone to the barn-raising dance. It was too hard to watch her with the doctor, and eventually his stomach had been so twisted he had to leave. Which was ridiculous. This is how it should be, was what he wanted — her out of his life and with another who would be good to her.
Callum sighed and sat down at the end of the bed, rubbing his eyes. As much as he would enjoy discovering more of the growing passion between them, she wasn’t the type of woman for whom a physical liaison would be enough. He had made it clear to her that there was no future to be had between them. Now he just had to convince himself.
He sighed as he paced. It was obvious he’d not easily find sleep this night. So much remained unsettled, unresolved. He sat there, alone in his room, and all he could think about was the way her curves had felt under his hands as they’d danced, the humor in her smile, and the quick wit that sprang from her mind and through her soft lips. Then he recalled the way that smile had lapsed as they danced, how she had gone stiff in his arms as tension of a different sort had built between them. There was the coldness of their unwillingness to truly share their secrets with one another, for then it would be giving in to the battle against the current that sparked between them. While his mind told him that she could never be his, his heart and soul were longing for her with such ferocity he didn’t know how to resist.
Just what he was supposed to do about it, he had no idea whatsoever.
* * *
Victoria had closed her bedroom door but had not yet undressed when she heard a knock on the front door downstairs.
Curiosity overcame her, and she poked her head outside of the door to listen.
“Victoria!” Sarah called up. “A visitor for you.”
Victoria waited a moment so she wouldn’t seem too eager, but she was more than curious as to who would be calling at such a time.
“A young man to see you, Victoria,” said Sarah once she reached the landing, and her aunt to whisper in her ear, “I believe I now know why you turned down Dr. Hampton, hmm? I’ll give you time alone, but be sure to stay in sight. We don’t want to be improper, now do we?”
“I’ll make sure, Aunt Sarah,” she replied with the ghost of a smile on her lips, as Sarah moved to the next room.
And there he was, filling the door frame. His dark locks of hair were tousled around his face, and half the buttons of his vest were undone. His face matched the turmoil of his attire.
“Victoria,” he said, inclining his head toward her, ever the gentleman.
“Callum,” she replied steadily, her eyes gazing intently on his face as she yearned to go to him but held herself back. “It’s such a beautiful evening, let’s sit outside.”
Then there would also be a door between them and curious Aunt Sarah.
They stood there for a moment staring at one another, all of the words unsaid hovering tense in the air between them.
“I, ah, I’m glad you came,” she finally said, sweeping her eyes downward to his boots before looking back up at him. “Though it is rather late, isn’t it?”
He nodded tersely, his strong jaw set firmly. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t even know why—”
Sensing his agitation, she held up a hand to halt his flow of words, before stretching it out toward him, palm up.
“Perhaps the time for secrets is over.”
Relief softened his face as he nodded and then took her preferred hand and led her outside.
She moved past him, leading him out the door and down the veranda to the wooden steps where they sat, side by side but not touching. Beside them, the scent of Aunt Sarah’s perennials, just beginning to bloom, permeated the air.
More than once, Victoria caught Callum’s gaze locked on her hands, which she’d folded in her lap.
“I know ’tis late,” he began again, his tone apologetic.
She smiled softly and shook her head. The fact that it was late made it clear that he had something of importance to discuss with her. “It’s of no consequence. I had not yet retired.”
He sighed, seemingly struggling with words, and something unlocked within her at his own vulnerability. She became ready and willing to give him something now. Something worth more than anything else she could ever give. Her trust.
“I’ll tell you my story,” she blurted out. “It’s nothing tragic or clandestine, but I have my reasons for keeping it to myself. If word got out I was here, there could be… consequences.”
And with that, the words came tumbling forth as she proceeded to tell him of her happy childhood with her father, John Brighton, and how he was the beginning of all that she had come to love in life.
“It is because of him that I loved to read, and books were how I got through what was to come,” she said, her lips curling at the memories. “Our favorite books were those about explorers or adventurers, whether they were real or fiction. My father was like Aunt Sarah, always with a wish for something beyond what he knew. I can still see him pacing the room, making me laugh as he brought words to life with accents, charades, and even, at times, costumes. His desk would be piled high, paperwork forgotten, interspersed with his favorite writings.”
Callum said nothing, but allowed her to continue.
“My mother was beautiful, but frightfully cold. After my father died, my mother remarried, to Edward Travers III. There was no love in our home, and I found myself pouring my heart out in letters to Sarah, who had left a few years prior to make a new life with Albert here in Qu’Appelle. Then my mother passed.” She sighed, worrying that Callum might think she was searching for pity, when she really just needed him to understand.
“I am Edward’s last hope to save himself, though he cares nothing for me,” she explained. “It’s my inheritance that matters to him. You see, my father was the second son of an earl. It’s partly why my mother married him — she thought at the time he would become the earl, as his elder brother was sickly. However, his brother recovered, married, and went on to father seven children. And so my mother’s dreams of a title disappeared. My father did, however, receive a large sum of money from his family. He saved most of it, and instead of leaving it to my mother, he left it as my inheritance. Edward can’t touch it. Only I can, or my husband, and only after I turn twenty-one in September.
“I’ve been proposed to multiple times, with many more suitors. Each time it wasn’t meant to be. Some were cold, some were mean, most were fortune hunting, and many were
simply boring. Unless I felt that they actually had true intentions toward me, I managed to offend most of them enough that they just went away and I never had to say no.”
Callum’s laughter halted her explanation. Up until now, he had listened in silence, allowing her to tell her story in her own way, in her own time.
“Why are you laughing?” she asked now.
“You offended them?”
“Yes, I’d just act improperly until they realized we wouldn’t suit and they left me alone.”
“I see.” She could tell he was trying to hold back his smile, but she ignored him and continued on.
“It worked for all but the Duke of Lansing. He and Edward had met at a gambling house, and soon he was coming by frequently. He would call on me but then barely speak a word to me.
There wasn’t anything that I could do to make him reject me. The fortune held enough importance for him. He cared nothing for my manners, barely spoke to me. Marriage to him would be a sham. Or short and deadly.” She shivered. “He and my stepfather had some kind of deal that they would split my inheritance. The duke is desperate. He’s a gambler, a losing one at that, and his estate is in ruin. He will have to be rid of it soon if he cannot find a way to pay his debts. He’s worse than all the rest though. It was never proven, but widely believed that he killed his first wife. And you should see his estate. It’s eerie, Callum. It gave me the shivers. Sarah finally insisted that I come here. So I escaped. I left the night before the wedding, traveled to Liverpool, boarded the ship, and you know the story from there. The Gambles are my Aunt Sarah’s friends. Now, here I am, in Qu'Appelle.”
“That’s quite the story, lass.”
She recoiled, and her stomach tied itself into a knot. “You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you. I don’t think you’re very capable of telling a lie.”
She relaxed slightly. “I am unsure how to take that, but thank you, I think.”
A crease formed between his brows. “What of your uncle, the earl?”
“He was angry because of the fortune my grandfather left my father and would have no interest in welcoming me into his home. Sarah, their sister, was close with my father, and is the only true family I have left.”
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“What are you going to do here? Find a man to marry?”
“I have not quite found my place. I’ve never really had the desire to marry. Perhaps if I were to ever fall desperately in love I would, but otherwise … it seems much work and compromise for what — companionship?” She snorted. “I do not need someone to take care of me and I will not have anyone telling me what to do any longer. Now that I have tasted freedom, I find I rather enjoy it. My immediate plans are to work with Aunt Sarah and Dr. Hampton, and to determine my future as it comes.”
“You’ve not seen many a happy marriage, have ye? And, ah,” Callum cleared his throat, “You’re not ‘desperately in love’ with the doctor, then?”
“Dr. Hampton? No,” Victoria replied with a slight laugh as she realized how hard it was for Callum to ask that question, warming to the fact that he cared enough to find out. “He’s a lovely man, and a marriage between us would make sense, but there just isn’t that spark, you know?”
That he knew.
“Victoria!” Aunt Sarah called from inside. “I think you’d best come in before we become tomorrow’s gossip.”
She turned to him suddenly feeling the fool. "Why did you come?” she asked. “I’m sure it wasn’t to hear my own tales.”
“I’m glad you shared them," he replied with a smile that warmed her entire being. “I—”
"Victoria! You best come in now!”
“It's fine," he said, rising from the steps. "We will speak again soon.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Good night, Victoria.”
“Good night,” was all she managed before he was off into the night.
17
Victoria woke the next morning with purpose. She had been selfish last night, monopolizing the entire conversation with Callum. And not only that, she was desperately curious at just why he had called upon her so late. She was determined to find out.
She also had to tell Callum all she had heard outside of the barn. She should have told him last night. But as always, she had gotten carried away with her own drama and completely forgot about his.
She walked briskly down the dusty street, trying to keep her skirt from dragging through the dry and caked mud. She strode up to the boarding house steps and knocked impatiently on the door.
As she stood on the step waiting for the door to open, she felt oddly exposed. More so here, clothed, than in the middle of a cold stream. Here in the middle of Broadway Street — bustling by western small-town standards — it seemed she was capturing quite a bit of attention as passersby stared, apparently wondering what she was doing on the steps of the boarding house.
The door finally swung open to reveal Mrs. Johnson. She had a dish towel slung over her shoulder, and the aroma of a hearty breakfast wafted from within.
“Good morning, Mrs. Johnson. Is Callum— that is, Mr. McDougall, is he in?”
“Mr. McDougall? He just left.”
“Oh,” said Victoria, trying not to let her disappointment show. “Do you know where he’s gone?”
“I’m only his innkeeper. I don’t keep his schedule,” she said, but with a gentle smile to soften her words.
“Perhaps I can be of some use.” The voice came from within. Mrs. Johnson opened the door wider and stepped aside to reveal a rather disheveled man close to Victoria’s own age. His clothing was loose and didn’t fit quite right, while his scruffy beard outlined lips set in a thin line. Victoria gave a start, for she recognized the voice. This was one of the men she had heard outside of the barn last night.
“Looking for the newly arrived Scot, are you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure I can help.”
“I really need to talk to Mr. McDougall, but thank you, sir.”
“Fancy the man?”
“I’m sure that is none of your business, sir,” she said, noting that Mrs. Johnson was similarly not entirely pleased with the turn of the conversation. “I thank you, good day.”
Victoria tried to turn down the steps while Brandon continued.
“He went north up the road, if that helps ya. But if you’re looking for a good time, we could have much more fun without him!”
Victoria sailed down the final two steps, her cheeks flaming, as she heard Mrs. Johnson chastising him. Of all the nerve. She tried not to let it bother her as she squared her shoulders and began striding down the street after Callum.
When she spied Callum in the distance heading out of town, she picked up her skirts and broke out into a run to try to catch him. He was on horseback, but didn’t seem to be moving very quickly. Where was he going? He must be headed out toward the police post again. Was he working with the Mounties? Did they even work with civilians? She really wasn’t sure how the North-West Mounted Police operated, but they were clearly looking into something regarding Callum’s cousin.
After all Callum had done for her, she knew she had to help him. But how?
* * *
Callum was standing by the edge of the lake, looking out over the water, churning the facts of his cousin’s disappearance over in his mind, hopeful that something would come to him. He was stuck, unsure of what should be his next step. He turned when he heard a disturbance on the path behind him. Not surprised when the scuffled footsteps and cleared brush revealed Victoria, his lips curled into a grin.
“Are ye following me, lass? Our meetings seem to be a common occurrence.”
“No,” she said, sending him a scathing glare. “It’s a small town. And the fact is, I’m here to help you.”
“To help me? You look like the one who may currently need a hand.”
Victoria’s hair had partially fallen and was stickin
g to her face and neck. Her face was bright red, and she appeared to be suffering with the heat. She tugged at her dress as though perhaps it was uncomfortable.
“How do you expect me to look? You do know that women aren’t naturally put together, but that it takes work? And sometimes that work can be un-done, by heat and activity and—”
“I understand, Victoria,” Callum said, cutting her off before his mind could wander to what kind of activity would make her appear in such a way. He might have teased her about her current appearance, but to his mind, she looked all too inviting.
“Regardless,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “I heard a conversation last night that I thought you would want to know about. I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind. We were all caught up in my situation, and this was so important, and yet somehow I just—”
His exasperation at her rambling must have been apparent as she stopped suddenly.
“Right. I’ll move along.” She told him of the conversation she had heard outside the barn the evening before. “And,” she finished triumphantly, “at least one of the men lives at your boarding house! I saw him this morning when I called on you.”
“What did the three look like?”
She described them, and he easily recognized them as the old, craggy Alistair, strong and good-looking Chester, and finally the unkempt Brandon she had encountered that morning.
“Interesting,” he said without much emotion and eyed her suspiciously. “And why, lass, do you assume it is me who these men think ‘knows nothing about his cousin going missing’?”
“Oh!” Victoria flushed a darker red and averted her gaze. “Well, you see, earlier in the evening at the dance I was outside getting fresh air, and I saw you walking with a man. You were talking about finding out information, and then I heard this other conversation, and I thought perhaps the two were connected. That sounds ridiculous now that I listen to myself. I mean, really, what kind of connection could you have to someone who is missing? You’ve only just arrived!”
Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders Page 11